I went to the cardiologist today for a follow-up on my stupid heart. I should have known it would be a good appointment when he saw my UVA sweatshirt and he pulled his undershirt up through his collar so I could see it was a UVA T-shirt.
It got better.
I told him "I worry about my heart." His response: Don't worry about your heart; let me worry about it.
He then went over all my worries in-depth. He agreed I should have a pulmonary function test to get a baseline, and he did point out my body parts are degenerating because of Friedreich's ataxia, although he used a kinder word like deconditioning. But he made it very clear that my heart is fine and not worth worrying over.
It was pretty great.
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